


Darkness Falls

by Blacksky92



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacksky92/pseuds/Blacksky92
Summary: It's time Snape came to terms with feelings he has been so vehemently denying, feelings for a certain handsome student of his. Set during the start of The Goblet of Fire.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 15
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

Harry leaned over his desk, his face was mere inches from Hedwig’s cage as his eyes gazed out his bedroom window, swimming over the seemingly endless sea of identical houses. The owl’s disgruntled squawks resided in his ears, yet he felt compelled to ignore them as his empty eyes continued to stare out into the abyss. 

It had been a long time since he had felt like this, a sense of emptiness seemed to merge with a sense of foreboding to give birth to an entirely new sensation. A sensation that was infinitely worse than either one on its own.

Harry clutched his fingers around a small crystal ball, as though afraid it would slip perilously from his grasp. Yet it seemed to him that some events were doomed to take place regardless of how well one were to play their cards.The young wizard sighed as he closed his eyes. The faint laughter of a game show on television echoed from the dining room downstairs as darkness began to settle across the Surrey sky.

A violent roar of laughter erupted from downstairs, prompting the young wizard from his reverie. It was a voice that could belong to no other than his despicable uncle. 

Why had Dumbledore subjected him to this yet again? 

Then again, why was he clinging so desperately to this very glass ball that Dumbledore had given him on his last day of term? 

Why had the Headmaster given it to him in the first place?

“It’s dessert time Dudders!” Aunt Petunia’s voice called out from what Harry guessed was the kitchen downstairs. It was, after all, a very safe guess. The voice was promptly followed by a cascade of footsteps as they thumped down the stairs at great speed. Harry was certain he had heard his cousin stumble and fall on the last few steps, yet he didn’t dare get up to confirm it.

A pang struck his heart, how he wished beyond all measure that he were at the Burrow, surrounded by Ron and every other Weasley, like a normal family. He hated the awful feeling that began to grow within his heart, the resentment that lingered within it, a resentment aimed at his best friend for inheriting a fortunate life, one that was surrounded by family members who actually cared about each other.

No.

He could not afford to allow thoughts of resentment to seep any further into his heart, this was difficult enough without thoughts that would be guaranteed only to make it worse. 

Harry leaned back in his seat, his fingers still engulfing the crystal ball. 

So much had happened this past year, he had met Sirius, only to then almost lose him again to those wretched dementors. 

That had been close, far too close. 

Yet, one question still lingered in his heart, why had Snape shielded him from Remus when he had turned into a werewolf? Why had he collected his unconscious body from the shores of the lake? Why had he gone to the trouble to returned him to the safety of the castle? But more than that, why had he saved him in his first ever year? When professor Quirrel has jinxed his broom? Why did he keep saving him when his attitude towards him in class made it so obvious how much he hated him? 

They were all questions that Harry did not know the answer to, even after all this time. But for how long more would he have to wait to find out? 

Harry sighed, clutching the crystal ball tighter still, until he could feel the echo of his pulse radiating through it. It was as though the ball he harboured was now an extension of his own body and no longer a foreign object. 

Another bellow of violent laughter tore up the stairs, prompting Harry to jump slightly at the unwelcome intrusion. The crystal ball slipped from his grasp, bouncing lightly across the wooden desk before settling into a steady roll. Harry’s eyes widened as it veered dangerously towards the edge of the desk. He could not afford for it to fall, it would be sure to meet it’s peril. The young wizard lurched forward, only catching the ball as it reached the cusp of the desk. His heart pounded as he wasted no time replacing it upon it’s makeshift stand. It was only in that moment that he noticed it.

A figure embedded within the depths of the crystal.

Harry leaned forward as intrigue seized control of his actions.

He peered closer until the miniature figure became steadily clearer, until it’s appearance could be undeniable.

Harry gasped, his eyes widening as they fell upon the small figure of Severus Snape. 

Harry cocked his head to the side, making no effort to disguise his confusion as his gaze continued to fixate upon the professor.

Why on earth was Professor Snape appearing in his crystal ball? Was it because he was pondering the man’s actions only moments before? 

It had to be that. What other explanation could it hold?

Harry peered closer still, as though doing so would change the image before him. 

Only it did not. 

The young wizard shook his head, before turning away from the ball as he tried to push thoughts of the professor from his mind. 

*-*

Snape leaned back in his creaking armchair as the warm air radiating from the fireplace licked his pale skin. He expected that at any moment, Dumbledore would sweep through his front door. Yet knowing this fact hardly eased his apprehension as his eyes darted between the fireplace and his front door. He clutched at a glass ball within his fingers, as though doing so would delay the inevitable. But it was no use as he found his eyes returning to the barrier of a door. He knew it was risky, yet he felt compelled to do it regardless. He raised the ball closer to his chin before drawing it to his lips. He closed his eyes as he allowed his thoughts to drift, an act he seldom engaged in as he pressed his lips against the warm glass. 

A look veering dangerously close to longing lingered in his eyes as he gazed at the small form of Harry Potter staring up at him from the confines of the transparent orb. Here he could watch Potter until his heart's content, without fear of raising questions or getting caught. 

Yet, lately it hardly seemed to be enough any more. The boy’s eyes, so much like that of his mother, seemed only to make him hungrier, but for what exactly? 

Perhaps he already knew, yet to acknowledge it would be dangerous. To acknowledge it would mean he had ventured down a path he could never come back from.

“Good evening Severus my dear.” A warm, familiar voice radiated throughout the room, prompting the potions professor almost violently from his reverie. 

"Headmaster" Snape greeted, his traditional drawl seeping from his lips as it has always done. Yet this time seemed different, there was an undeniable edge in his voice, an uncertainty, one he doubted would go unnoticed by the greatest wizard of all time. Snape leaned forward, as though preparing to force himself from the seat to properly greet his guest. Or perhaps to disguise the fact he had been caught so uncharacteristically off guard.

"Now now Severus, there is no need to get up," Dumbledore began, waving his hands in the air as if to reaffirm his point. Yet it hardly seemed respectful to barely acknowledge the man by remaining seated. Snape rose from his seat despite being told otherwise. 

"Firewhisky Headmaster?" The dark haired wizard offered, as though at a loss for what else to say. 

"Perhaps a brandy" Dumbledore smiled his usual smile, the one in which it seemed as though he were looking through his subject, straight into their soul.

“My dear Severus, I do hope you're not allowing old feelings to complicate an already delicate situation.” Dumbledore continued to gaze at the man before him, his eyes fishing for Snape’s until he had finally caught them. The headmaster’s eyes then shifted from his subject’s eyes to the ball within the man’s grasp. Snape didn’t need this ‘not so subtle’ act of inference to know what the man was getting at. 

“It’s a risky game you're playing Severus.” Dumbledore peered over his half moon spectacles.

They both took their seats in the warm sitting room, silence becoming an ever more intimate acquaintance as Severus clutched ever tighter at the crystal ball. 

“What do you mean?” Snape stated, breaking the silence suddenly in his familiar flat drawl.

“You must be aware, I am sure, that should young Mr Potter be in possession of one of those balls you quite lovingly hold within your grasp, that he can see your reflection within it every time you think of him.”

“I am aware.” Snape continued to drawl, yet an edge of agitation seemed to simmer ever so cautiously below his surface.

“However, I do not think it likely that he will figure that aspect out for himself.”

“You underestimate his abilities, as you have quite frequently done.” The familiar smile radiated from Dumbledore’s lips, it’s glow as warm as Snape had ever known it.

The potions professor snarled, as though refusing to participate in this ridiculous, verging on childish game.

“I would exercise caution Severus.”

“Those eyes,” Snape began as he suddenly rose from his seat, wasting no time as he raised his wand into the air. Within a fraction of a second, a cupboard door flew open and a bottle of brandy flew from within its confines. Within a moment, Snape’s fingers grasped the neck of the bottle before placing it on a small table between Dumbledore and himself. With another flick of his wand, two large glasses appeared before taking their place next to the bottle, as though they were lining up for a family photo.

“You know I cannot resist them.”

“Can not, or will not Severus?”


	2. Chapter 2

Darkness swum over Little Whinging as Severus Snape strode past a fading playground, which had obviously been abandoned by the neighbourhood children as blackness had long consumed the night sky. Heavy clouds were setting across the starry sky like a large, slowly breaking wave. A gentle creaking crept into his ears as he passed a swingset blowing gently in the rising breeze.

He couldn’t have picked a worse night, yet the coming storm would also offer him something a clear night could not. 

Privacy.

It wasn’t long before the professor stood before his goal, number four Privet Drive.

He chose to occupy a spot at the end of the driveway, his eyes traversing the side of the house until they reached a small window on the second floor. A warm orange hue glowed from within the room’s confines as the silhouette of a young man appeared.

This is what he had come for.

Snape continued to watch for what seemed like hours, his gaze becoming more intent still as Harry rose from his desk to stand by the window. The professor knew it would have to be close to the young man’s bed time. Snape felt a pang shoot through his heart as Harry slid off his shirt before starting on his trousers. The professor knew he ought to look away, yet his eyes remained fixated upon the sight before him.

“Here again Severus.” A familiar voice greeted the potion’s professor’s ears as he flinched before turning to face Privet Drive’s latest visitor.

“Headmaster.” The professor nodded with all the respect he could possibly muster as he remained afraid of what Albus would say this time. After all, what legitimate reason could he possibly have for standing outside Harry Potter’s house.

Though it seemed Dumbledore knew he had been here before, then again it was pointless trying to hide anything from the man, he already knew everything.

Snape pried his lips apart as he attempted to think of something else to say, yet nothing came to his mind as small droplets of rain began to sprinkle over him.

“You are fortunate that I am also here this evening Severus.” Dumbledore offered the professor a kind smile, the one that had so often adorned the Headmaster’s lips, his trademark grin.

“I have brought with me an umbrella.” Dumbledore continued as he conjured an umbrella etched with little moons and planets, before effortlessly unfolding it.

“How thoughtful.” Snape stated, yet his voice distinctly lacked sincerity. After all, if Snape so required it, he could just conjure his own umbrella, or perhaps cast the impervious spell.

“I wonder if I might ask a favour of you dear Severus.” Dumbledore sighed as his eyes too gazed up at the small illuminated window.

“What might that be Headmaster?” Snape raised a curious eyebrow as he appeared to succeed at hiding his apprehension.

“The Weasley’s are coming to collect our young Mr Potter soon and they will be attending the Quidditch World Cup. I wondered if you might keep an eye on him for me.”

Snape parted his lips to seek further clarification, yet it seemed Dumbledore knew precisely what the professor was intending to ask.

“I expect the games will not go according to plan, I fear they will be interrupted, shall we say.”

Snape didn’t need to ask to know what Dumbledore was getting at.

“Of course.” Snape nodded, though he never had any intention of refusing a task which involved keeping Mr Potter within his sights.

*~.~*

Harry couldn’t believe he would ever see the day that Mr Weasley would appear in his uncle’s living room, along with half the Weasley family.

He couldn’t wait to leave, the excitement and anticipation had been tracking him ever since he found out that he would be attending the Quidditch World Cup.

Except now it felt real, like it was actually going to happen. It was no longer a mere fantasy or hopeful dream.

“Right, shall we head off Harry.” Mr Weasley smiled as Fred and George lugged his trunk through the Dursely’s fire place.

Harry’s feet couldn’t carry him fast enough as he stepped into the fireplace. He didn’t even bother to turn and say goodbye to Vernon, Petunia or Dudley. Within a moment he stood in the living room of the Burrow. He was finally free of the Dursley’s until next summer. 

“Harry dear!” Mrs Weasley’s outstretched arms greeted him as she drew him into a warm embrace.

“Mrs Weasley, thank you for letting me stay over the summer.”

“It’s quite alright dear! You know you are welcome here any time.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile as Mrs Weasley led him towards an available sofa.

“Make yourself comfortable.” She smiled before returning to the kitchen.

Only a few moments later, Mr Weasley, Fred, George and Ron reappeared.

“We’ll just put your stuff upstairs in Ron’s room.” Fred and George stated in unison as they carried his trunk and owl up the wonky staircase.

“Thank you,” Harry nodded in acknowledgement as he followed them up the stairs to unpack.

Within a moment Harry had pulled the essential items from his suitcase, while leaving his school items at the bottom of the trunk. He sat down on his makeshift camp bed as he twirled a familiar object around within his grasp. 

The crystal ball.

Harry sighed as he laid back on his bed, he couldn't deny the warmth radiating from the crystal orb as he drew it closer to his face. 

“What’s that you got there? Is it one of old crazy Trelawnley’s divination balls?” Ron chuckled slightly as he leaned back on his own bed.

Harry glanced over at Ron, yet the redhead’s eyes were now fixated upon his Chudley Canon’s poster.

“No, it’s one Dumbledore gave me, though I’m not sure why he gave it to me.” Harry pondered as he continued to twirl the ball around in his fingers.

“It’s strange though,” Harry began, as if suddenly remembering this important detail.

“I was thinking about Snape a few days ago and he appeared in the ball.” Harry recounted the strange story to Ron, wondering what angle he might be able to add to it.

“Eww, what were you thinking about that greasy git for?” Ron screwed up his face as he rearranged his arms behind his head in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position.

“I was just wondering why he keeps trying to save me when he obviously hates me so much.”

“Why do you even care?” Ron rolled over before dangling his head over the side of the bed. He appeared to be searching under his bed for something but was too lazy to actually get up and have a proper look. 

  
  


*~.~*

He never did appreciate the loud shouting and large crowds that defined a game of quidditch, yet that was hardly what drew him here today. He supposed he was the only one at the world cup who was there to watch something else entirely. Or rather, someone else. He could hardly deny feeling as though he were a predator circling its prey. 

When had he become like this?

Snape lurked behind a market stall that appeared to be selling an assortment of miniature broomsticks and stuffed owls as his eyes traversed the makeshift street. He knew he was sure to find Harry Potter here, of course he would want to visit the market before attending the quidditch world cup game. 

Snape loitered for ten, twenty, thirty minutes before his reason for being there finally appeared. His gaze ran over the young wizard’s form before resting upon his eyes. He watched as Harry brought Ron and himself a pair of omnioculars. He could watch Harry forever, yet it seemed life had other intentions as Snape slid to avoid Harry sensing his gaze and catching him. Though the thick, steady crowd aided his cause, for the moment at least.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Perhaps he was right, perhaps he was wrong, but either way, Harry Potter seemed unable to shake off the feeling that he was being watched. 

He glanced down the crowded street before grasping the butterbeer he had ordered off of the stained stall bench. 

Yet, his eyes were unable to discover anything out of the ordinary. 

But then why did he feel this way? 

He stuffed his wizarding change back into his wallet before shoving it back into the depths of his over stuffed pocket. Yet, as he did so, he failed to notice as his crystal orb fell from within his pocket. 

He drew his bottle to his lips before taking a large gulp. In all the excitement and commotion of the World Cup, he hadn’t realised just how thirsty he had become. 

Feelings of euphoria exploded within him as the rich liquid danced over his taste buds before disappearing down his throat. His stomach warmed as the butterbeer made itself at home within its confines. He felt as though he were in heaven, a sanctuary dedicated solely to him. He was surrounded by everything he held so dear, his friends, quidditch and the enthralling atmosphere that went with it. A smile formed on his lips, even as he heard Hermione and Ron’s constant bickering about the latter's choice of purchases. 

"That figurine was a complete waste of money Ronald." Hermione sighed, Harry didn't need to turn around to know that she was shaking her head indignantly. 

"Shit!" Harry gasped as he frantically patted the outside of his pocket. 

"What is it?" Ron stated quickly, as though determined to cease the argument he was having with Hermione. 

"My ball!" Harry exclaimed, not bothering to disguise the panic in his voice. 

"Ball?" Ron's eyes widened in apparent confusion.

"What ball?" He added as his eyes instinctively began searching the dirt beneath their feet.

"My crystal ball!" Harry shouted a little too loudly, as though wondering how come his best friend hadn't put two and two together by himself already.

"Oh, that one." Ron nodded before appearing to search the ground before them with a greater vigor.

"You mean you've lost your Divination ball?" Hermione began as she too began searching the area.

"Why did you even bring that thing to an event like this? What good is it here?"

"Predict the winners?" Ron suggested, a smirk appearing on his lips as he dared to shoot Hermione a glance.

"That's hardly funny Ronald."

"Not my Divination ball." Harry huffed as he fell to his knees, no longer caring what those around him thought of his desperate actions.

"Then what?" Hermione raised her eyebrows as she joined him on the ground.

"It's much smaller." Stated frankly but refused to elaborate further as he patted the ground around his feet.

"Smaller? What is it used for then?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but Dumbledore gave it to me just before I went to my aunt's and uncle's for the holiday's."

"Didn't he tell you why?"

"Not really, you know what Dumbledore is like." 

Hermione shrugged, her words apparently escaping her. 

~*.*~ 

It seemed as though barely a moment had passed, but a moment was all he needed as Snape slipped through the thick crowd like butter off a roast potato. His keen eyes had spotted what Harry’s had failed to. He swooped in, grasping the neglected crystal ball from the pile of dirt it had become embedded within. 

He wasted no time as he rubbed the dirt from its surface as it soon adopted its familiar clear sheen.

This was his prize.

His reward.

How he wanted to keep this within his grasp forever, only, to do so would compromise any chance he would have to view Harry Potter from a distance.

It did seem however that this situation had presented a unique opportunity…

~*.*~

Snape sat several rows back from where he knew Harry would be sitting to watch the games, his eyes wandering through the sea of witches and wizards as they entered the stadium. He clutched Harry’s ball within his grasp, as though afraid of losing it before drawing it towards his face. 

How he wanted to hold the orb forever, this same crystal had been held by those precious hands. He closed his eyes, forgetting for the moment the chaos of the world around him. He drew the orb to his lips, allowing them to caress the warm crystal as though the ball were an extension of his own body.

He knew he should be keeping an eye out for Harry, yet knowing the object within his grasp had once been held by the young wizard only made it all the more valuable to him. It was better than his drawer full of abandoned quills, scraps of paper, discarded empty potion jars, all of which had belonged to Mr Potter at some point.

Yes, this was far better indeed.

Snape pried his eyes open as they returned to searching the stands once more.

And there he was.

In no time at all, the professor had honed into the one thing he desired above all others.

Harry Potter.

Snape rose from his seat as though on que, yet his actions had seemed almost instinctual. He watched as the boy took a seat, with one friend sitting on either side. Snape paced forward, weaving his way through rows of both occupied and soon to be occupied seats. He soon arrived at the seat behind the young wizard.

He stood there, his eyes dancing over his dark hair, flawless supple skin, he seemed all the more attractive in the flesh.

He could stand there, admiring this pleasant sight for all eternity.

“Mr Potter.” Snape stated, though it seemed the words had left his lips before he was ready for them to. His eyes widened ever so slightly as the young wizard visibly jumped at the sound of his name. Or perhaps it was the sound of his despised potions professor’s voice that made him react this way. Either way, there was a hesitance as though Harry had hoped he’d misheard but perhaps decided it was best to be sure. The younger wizard turned his head slowly over his shoulder in the direction of the voice. Yet his first instinct had indeed been correct.

To his apparent dismay, there stood professor Snape.

“Professor.” Harry stuttered, a brief flash of anger across his eyes confirmed his annoyance at himself for displaying such vulnerability to his most hated instructor.

“I believe this is yours.” Snape began as he held out his hand before him. Within it rested the crystal ball Harry had been so desperately searching for.

Harry gasped before immediately rising to his feet.

How had Snape, of all people, found the ball he had been so fiercely searching for? But more importantly, how had he known that it belonged to him? 

“Uh, thanks.” Harry’s lips broke out in the briefest of smiles as he reached out for the ball.

“You best take better care of it.” Snape raised his eyebrows as though expecting reassurance that he indeed would from his student.

“T-thanks Professor.” Harry could barely deny the relief in his voice as he once again held the ball within his grasp. He mustn't be so careless.

“Enjoy your holidays.” Snape drawled as his eyes searched Harry’s, though the younger wizard seemed to find it impossible to decipher whether the professor was being sincere or sarcastic. 


	4. Chapter 4

Snape leaned against the thick trunk of a pine tree. From this vantage point he was well hidden, yet it still offered him a direct view of Harry's tent. He sighed as he whisked his wand from within the confines of his robe pocket, trying to ignore the chunks of bark that relentlessly dug into his back.

Yes.

He had enjoyed the game immensely; it had been a long time since he had been able to watch Harry for hours at a time without interruption. The last time would have been at the end of term feast.

Yes.

But even that had its own set of drawbacks. It is difficult to spy on someone when they frequently turn in your direction. Not to mention the other countless sets of eyes in the hall that may notice.

This time was unique.

This time he could spend hours gazing into the back of Harry's head, which would not sound particularly exciting to most individuals, but to him it was heaven.

With a flick of his wand, he now held what appeared to be an antique monocular. He pulled the scope out, extending it as far as the ancient device would allow. He held the monocle to his eye, soon homing in on the warmly illuminated tent in question. He did not have to wait long before a shadow appeared upon the illuminated surface.

Was it Potter's?

Or perhaps one of the Weasley's?

Snape clutched the scope, watching intently as the figure slid off his shirt before starting on his trousers.

Snape felt a pang strike his heart, though it refused to linger there. Instead it chose to traverse down his body before pooling in his groin.

The professor closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation as it rippled to life through him.

He opened his eyes, choosing to ignore the pangs of guilt clawing at his conscience like a relentless cat. Only, to his horror the light within the tent had been extinguished.

Damn it.

*~.~*

"I can't believe that ruddy old git was there tonight." Ron shook his head in apparent disgust as he pulled his pajama pants on in the dark.

"Who?" Harry questioned halfheartedly as he slid his crystal ball safely under his pillow.

"Snape of course!" Ron exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly as he lost balance, accidentally kicking his shin against the bunk bed.

"Ugh, why did my dad have to turn the lights off." Ron grumbled as he felt around for the edge of his blanket.

"I suppose it's because he wants us to go to sleep already." Harry stated the obvious answer as the bed quivered dangerously around him.

"Uh, I suppose your right." Ron sighed as he finally climbed into the lower bunk.

Silence fell between the boy’s, yet the chaos of excitement outside had far from ceased.

“At least he was being nice for a change, giving you back your ball and all.” Ron shrugged, though from Harry’s vantage point he was unable to witness it.

Harry slid his hand under his pillow before retrieving his crystal ball.

“Yeah that’s true.” Harry sighed as he played with the ball in his fingers.

It seemed to be yet another occasion where Snape had helped him, and yet, this time had seemed different. Harry’s eyes narrowed upon the ball, but what about him was different? He seemed perhaps a bit off guard? Not to mention wishing him a pleasant holiday.

Yes.

This was very out of character.

Not that that was a bad thing in this occasion.

Harry clutched the ball tighter still within his grasp, as though hoping it would deliver an answer to his curiosity. 

*~.~*

Snape stood still, the steady night breeze cool against his cheek. His gaze remained affixed to where it had been all that evening. Perhaps surveillance duties such as this were mundane to most other people, and perhaps to him too, if he were keeping watch over someone other than Harry Potter.

But tonight was no chore.

Though, his sense of duty didn’t stop the anxiety from rising in his chest as his heart began to pump blood at a furious rate around his body.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before the Death Eaters began their assault of the grounds. His heart began to pound harder, but he refused to let his apprehension appear on his face.

As long as he watched over Harry, then everything would be okay. 

That’s when it happened.

A shrill cry swept across the night sky. Snape jumped slightly as the moment he had been dreading was now upon them.

The Death Eaters had arrived.

A blaze of fire burnt within the distance, growing as it too swept across the grounds, engulfing everything that stood within its path. Snape’s attention returned to Harry’s tent. The lights were still out.

This was not good.

He needed to be made aware of the impending doom. As it stood, the ruckus outside was likely still being naively associated with the celebrations of the Irish.

Snape slid his fingers into his pocket before soon withdrawing his own crystal ball. He held it tight within his grasp, his thoughts existing only for Harry.

*~.~*

Harry jolted as a gasp escaped his lips. The pain surging through his fingers was becoming unbearable as he struggled to tear himself from his slumber.

What was wrong with him?

The young wizard thrashed around in his bed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fought to regain consciousness.

He opened his eyes before thrusting his hand in front of his face. The crystal ball was still nestled within his grasp, yet it was no longer a clear white. It glowed red, a colour that would be reminiscent of the scorch marks that he guaranteed would scar the inside of his hand.

Yet, despite the burning sensation, he felt compelled to clutch it closer, to hold on to it and never let it go.

He sat up on his bed, a sharp scream outside suddenly reminding him of the chaos outside.

How could he possibly get back to sleep?

Just as that thought seeped into his mind, the ball burst into a heat so strong that his hand instinctively released its grip upon it.

He gasped as he fumbled around before catching in inches from the ground.

What was going on?

It seemed almost as though it were trying to warn him of something.

Harry rose to his feet, deciding that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he was sure everything was fine outside.

The young wizard hesitated slightly as he reached out, carefully pulling back the canvas tent flap. He stepped out into the night as his eyes cautiously scanned his surroundings.

Harry’s heart pounded as he felt people rush past him, nearly knocking him over as flames engulfed nearby tents.

Some thing was wrong.

Very wrong.


End file.
